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AUTHOR’S POV
The sterile walls of the hospital room seemed to close in on Sloane, suffocating her, trapping her in a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.
The beeping of the monitors echoed in the empty space around her, an unbearable reminder that she was still alive—still breathing—despite the agony that consumed her whole.
It had been two days since she had woken up.
Two days since Vivian had walked out of her life.
Two days of drowning in grief, in betrayal, in memories she had spent years trying to bury.
Her parents’ screams still rang in her ears.
Her grandfather’s cold, vacant eyes haunted her every time she closed her own.
The blood.
The sound of footsteps in the dark.
The pain.
It was all coming back, slamming into her with relentless force, dragging her deepe
